Reflections
by Sevfan
Summary: Written in honour of Harry's birthday. July thirty-first was always a time for Harry to reflect on his life, and, in some cases, make decisions. Epilogue compliant. Slash, but no details.


Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books and Warner Brothers, Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Beta: Alisanne – thanks so much, especially for the encouragement. You're a great cheerleader!

**Reflections**

Birthdays had not always been a happy time for Harry. As a child, he had never known the joy of opening a present or blowing the candles out on a cake. Harry's birthdays had passed by, just a day like any other day, filled with chores, harsh words and disdain. As if this wasn't bad enough, he had to endure Dudley's birthdays, which, as the years went by, became more and more lavish, to the point of obscenity. Harry would watch his cousin greedily demand more, more, more, all the while thinking how happy he would be with just one little _something_. Alas, it was not meant to be. His so-called family never cared; that task fell to his friends. On his eleventh birthday, Hagrid presented Harry with his first cake and present – his beloved Hedwig. And Harry was thirteen before he received his first real birthday card, along with a gold-wrapped present from his best friend, Ron. The sheer joy of those moments was something that Harry never forgot.

As the years went by, Harry celebrated his birthday in different ways, but in the years following Voldemort's defeat, he was always feted with a family gathering, Ginny by his side. These were happy times, made even more so when the children came along. On his birthday, Harry always remarked how quickly James, Albus, and Lily grew. Time seemed to speed up – one minute he was changing a nappy, the next, thanking them for the beautiful handmade birthday card or present that they had lovingly crafted. Life was flying by at breakneck speed. It wasn't possible that Lily was already in her third year at Hogwarts, was it? Where had the years gone?

Harry also came to realise something else on these days – with each passing year, the feeling that he was missing out on _something_ grew stronger and stronger. He had a good life with Ginny and the kids, it was comfortable, familiar. It was everything he wanted, wasn't it? Well, wasn't it?

On Harry's forty-second birthday, he decided no, it wasn't. Something had been niggling him for quite some time. He had tried his best to ignore it, but try as he might, it wouldn't go away. This something was now screaming at him, very loudly, in fact. Harry could no longer deny that he was attracted to _men_. Deciding that he owed it to himself to explore these feelings (and hopefully get them out of his system), he mustered what seemed like more courage than it had taken to face Voldemort and took himself to a gay bar in Muggle London.

Terrified and excited, he sat at the bar, nursing a G and T, wanting that tall, muscular bloke to ask him to dance, all the while praying that he _wouldn't_ approach him. When Mr Muscles did, in fact, ask him, Harry swallowed deeply and, taking the proffered hand, accepted. The dance was a bit awkward at first, but Harry soon found his feet. One dance soon turned into three, but it was during the fourth, a slow, sexy rhythm, that Harry's world was forever changed. The touch of soft lips to his set off what seemed like a whole case of Weasleys' Wildfire Whizz-bangs in Harry's head. It was his birthday, Christmas, New Year's and Easter all rolled into one. It felt so completely and totally _right_. This was what had been missing from his life; he could no longer deny the truth. He was gay.

While nothing more happened that night, the evening's events gave Harry the courage to approach Ginny. It wasn't easy to tell your wife of so many years that, not only were you leaving her, but that you were gay. Harry somehow found the words; Ginny deserved the truth, after all. On one hand she had not been surprised – she, too, had felt that the marriage was over. Harry's sexuality did throw her for a bit of a loop, though. After much discussion, they agreed to divorce but remain friends. Harry had to hand it to Ginny – she was a classy lady.

The freedom to explore his new life only proved to Harry that he had made the right decision. This was who he was and he felt happier than he had in a long, long time. After years of being what everyone else wanted him to be, he was finally able to be just _Harry_. And he had a blast finding out just who this Harry was.

~*~

Harry knew it was much too early; the first beams of light were just barely peeking through the curtains. It was his birthday, his forty-fourth, to be exact, and a wave of excitement coursed through him. What surprises the day held for him, he didn't exactly know, but he knew there would be plenty, culminating with a family dinner. All the children would be there, as well as Ginny with her new beau. Harry smiled; she deserved to be happy, and it seemed that Fergus MacQuarrie was just the wizard to do that.

Harry wished that she would be as happy as he was. He gazed lovingly at his partner, still sound asleep, back towards him. Harry still marvelled that they were together, a most unlikely couple according to a large portion of the British wizarding world, if the _Prophet_ was to be believed. They had met again under unusual circumstances, when the Aurors went to investigate a supposed robbery at Gringotts. Little did Harry know that he had met his soul mate that day. It didn't take long for both wizards to realise this fact, and soon they moved in together, living in peaceful (mostly) harmony ever since. Harry looked over again, his heart brimming. He had thought that he had loved Ginny, but that was nothing compared to what he felt for this man beside him. This gorgeous, sexy, intelligent, sharp-tongued, at times snarky man who shared his life. Harry felt blessed.

"What time is it?" came a sleepy voice.

"Too early. Go back to sleep," replied Harry, snuggling himself against the warm body.

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks. Shhh…sleep now."

"Love you." The voice trailed off, leaving the whispers of slow, steady breathing in its place.

"Love you too, Draco," said Harry, pressing a kiss to the blond's shoulder.

Presents were nice, but he had all that he needed, all he would ever need, right there in his arms. His Draco. And on that thought, Harry drifted off into contented slumber once more.

Fin


End file.
